


From Winter Comes Spring

by quartzguts



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Complicated Relationships, Curse Breaking, Fae & Fairies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: The next day, he asks Regis what, exactly, Adagium is.Regis sighs heavily, as if he's been expecting Noctis to ask this question since the day he was born. "Adagium is a damned fairy, Noctis. He's ancient and very, very evil. No fairy can ever go near him, lest he infect them with the same madness."
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 7
Kudos: 174





	From Winter Comes Spring

The first time Noctis sees the Accursed he's trying to hide from his father, who wants to go over the details of his coronation ceremony for about the fiftieth time. Noctis swoops into a cave, hoping to avoid Regis’s eagle-sharp eyes, and catches sight of something moving in the darkness.

Adagium is a vile, ugly thing, dripping with ichor and trembling, huddled in the depths of the cave. Hiding from the sun.

Noctis shivers, feeling like he's seen something cursed, and flies away.

\---

The next day, he helps his father spread morning dew on the flowers of the human world as an apology for running away. As they work, he asks Regis what, exactly, Adagium is.

Regis sighs heavily, as if he's been expecting Noctis to ask this question since the day he was born. "Adagium is a damned fairy, Noctis. He is ancient and ineffably evil. No fairy can ever go near him, lest he infect them with the same madness."

Noctis frowns. "He's a fairy? He doesn’t look like one. He’s as big as a human, and I didn’t see any wings.”

Regis palms his face. "Noctis, I know you're young and curious, but please don't go near him again. I could not bear to lose you in such a way."

Noctis flinches, and flies over to envelop his father in a rare hug. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'll be more careful."

\---

Fairies are born of dandelions, blown by humans on the wind, carrying wishes, carrying dreams, carrying _feelings_. Each and every fairy is the living form of the feeling that gave birth to them. It's quite easy to tell, most of the time, what it is.

Noctis’s oldest friend and advisor, Ignis, was born of devotion.

Gladio, his protector from early in life, was born of dutifulness.

Prompto, his long suffering best friend, was born of optimism.

And Noctis -

Noctis doesn't know what he was born of.

\---

The next time he sees Adagium, the Immortal Accursed, the wretched _thing_ , he's ready. He's poured over the palace's library, reading anything and everything he can find about the fairy, and while most of it was just fluff about how _Adagium is the world's greatest evil_ and _Adagium can curse any fairy to share his fate_ he'd found something useful in an ancient little book that had been marked to be destroyed on account of its dilapidated state. Most of the pages had been illegible, but a few passages had survived the millennia. Now, knowing what Noctis knows, he can't just _not_ go and see the Accursed. Something deep in his soul calls him to go and confirm what he read.

So, here Noctis is, flying close to the man-sized fairy, his blue-black butterfly wings fluttering in nervousness.

Adagium remains perfectly still, curled in on himself as if he's completely oblivious to everything else in the world. His skin is filthy, his hair greasy and tangled. His wings are huge and heavy on his back, and they droop oddly, like they're wet. Noctis frowns and flies closer, trying to get a look at his face.

Adagium snatches him up before he can react. Noctis finds himself squeezed in the Accursed's fist, completely immobilized except for his neck and head. Adagium is so _warm_ it's startling; most fairies are some degree colder than humans, but Adagium feels like he's hotter, like there’s a furnace beneath his skin that wants to burn Noctis away until there's nothing left of him. He finds himself trembling at the possibility.

"Well, well, _well_ ," Adagium murmurs. His lips curl into a smirk. "What have we here?"

Noctis gasps. He can't speak with his chest crushed in Adagium's grip. He writhes and squirms, trying to find some leverage to pry open his fist and escape.

"What beautiful wings," Adagium says. He absently moves a finger back and forth, rubbing across Noctis's wings. Noctis jolts. No one touches a fairy's wings; it's not that they're particularly delicate, but they _are_ sensitive. A blush rises high on his cheeks as Adagium continues moving his fingers. He lessens his grip enough that Noctis can speak.

"I am Noctis Lucis Caelum," he says, “and I know what you are, Accursed."

Adagium raises him higher, until they're face to face. "My, my. Regis's boy, are you? Tell me, _Noctis_ , what am I?"

"You're _love_."

Adagium practically throws him out of the cave. Noctis yelps as his body crashes through the air, faster than he can fly. Once he manages to right himself he twists around, turning back to face the darkness.

" _Get out of my sight_ ," the Accursed hisses.

Noctis's wings ache as he flies away.

\---

Noctis was born of regality. Apparently.

He was found by Regis on the day he was born. He remembers clutching to the dandelion stem with his tiny hands, terrified and cold, the wind pushing him back and forth violently. He’d closed his eyes, felt tears gather on his lashes, and prepared to hit the ground hard and fast. He’d been so shocked when the harsh wind was replaced with warm, strong arms that he’d thrashed around and tried to escape.

“Calm down, child,” Regis had whispered into his hair, “it’s alright. You’re safe now, sweetheart.”

“No, no, no!” Noctis had cried.

“Shh, now, shh,” Regis cooed.

Eventually Noctis quieted, and Regis carried him back to the palace, pressing soft kisses against his forehead. They were greeted with cheers and flower-petal-confetti, and Noctis had buried his face in Regis’s shirt to hide himself. In hindsight, he knows he should have faced the crowds head on, acting like the proud and confident prince he was expected to be, but he'd had no concept of princehood at the time. He hadn't known that the fairies had been waiting a hundred years for the wind to bring their king a child, that the queen had already passed into the Calm Lands, and that Regis would have to raise Noctis by himself. All he'd known was that the noise frightened him.

When he'd met his uncles, Clarus and Cor, Regis's sworn brothers, he'd cried pathetically and burrowed into his father's chest.

"Such a shy son I've been given," Regis had said, but there had been no disappointment in his words. Only affection.

Regis was born of regality, a dandelion blown by a human liege, and thus he was found by the previous king, Mors. All the children found by fairy kings and queens are born of regality. Such is the way of the wind.

Most days, Noctis does not feel regal. He thinks the wind must have made a mistake. He must have been born of something else.

He tried to ask Regis about it, the day he passed 240 moon cycles. His father had held him, saying nothing.

\---

Noctis watches Adagium every night after that, taking care never to get too close. He flies out just before sunset and settles down to stare at whatever cave Adagium had rested in that day. When night falls, the Accursed creeps out, rising up to his impressive height and trotting out into the darkness.

 _Trotting_ because Adagium has a fawn's physique, furry legs with hoofed feet that tread softly on the dying grass and fallen leaves. Noctis stays high in the oak trees’ branches, flitting between them silently, barely breathing as he takes in Adagium's magnificence. He's muscular and strong, holding himself tall despite his unkempt appearance. Noctis still has no idea what his wings look like; they're weighty, dragging in the dirt behind him, but every time Noctis tries to look directly at them magic seizes his body and his gaze is forced away. Noctis tries to cast counter spells, tries to carry wards that will overcome Adagium's spell, but nothing works and he remains ignorant of what the damn things look like.

"I know you're there, little prince," Adagium says one evening, casting a lazy glance up to where Noctis is resting. The Accursed walks so _fast_ , with his long, powerful legs, and Noctis has been racing all night just to keep up with him. "Why don't you come down here? I promise I won't snatch you up again."

Noctis glares down at him. "I don't believe you."

Adagium's smirk melts onto a grin. It's feral and threatening, a predator's smile. "Come now, Noctis. There's no need to be coy. We both know you're too fascinated to turn down this _golden_ opportunity."

Noctis's glare deepens. Slowly he flutters down, stretching his wings out to parachute him lower and lower until he's floating right in front of Adagium's face. The man is filthy as usual, but from this close he looks like he could easily be beautiful. Perhaps he was, once, before he was cursed.

His hand moves faster than Noctis can blink, and he yelps when he’s trapped in that burning grip once more. "Liar!" Noctis spits.

"Indeed," Adagium says. "Now, my dear Noctis, I was wondering if we couldn't have a little chat."

"We can't," Noctis says, letting venom drip into his voice. He casts the spell with his intent, making his skin poisonous to the touch, but Adagium merely chuckles and tightens his grip.

"I must admit, I'm ever so curious," he continues, as if Noctis hadn't spoken, "as to why you've been following me this past moon."

Noctis doesn't answer. He wriggles again, trying to free his arms, and to his surprise Adagium loosens his grip and lets him. Noctis pushes up until only his lower body is trapped and stretches out his wings.

"Well?" Adagium says. "Anything to say for yourself, Noctis Lucis Caelum, scion of Lucis, future king of Spring?"

"What are you?" Noctis asks.

Adagium's face twists into something nasty. "I believe you already figured _that_ out, Your Highness."

"You _were_ love," Noctis says, "but you changed. I didn't know a fairy could change."

"Fairies can't," Adagium begins to answer. He pauses when he sees the sun in the distance, beginning to rise over the horizon. Soon the dawn will conquer the night. "I'm afraid we'll have to continue this talk another time, dear. I must return to the earth."

He releases Noctis. He wavers in the air for a moment, his wings still weakened by the heat, and Adagium lays his palm flat for Noctis to rest on. He sits completely still and eyes the Accursed warily as he trots over to a nearby cave, uncaring for the fairy resting in his palm. As they duck into the earth, Noctis realizes that the cave is horribly shallow. Adagium won’t have much space to maneuver around during the day, and from Noctis’s observations it doesn’t seem he sleeps. He’ll just have to sit, unmoving, for hours on end until the sun goes away.

How painful must it be, for the sun’s warmth to burn? Does it feel like pins and needles? Fire? Or is it like how Adagium’s skin feels against Noctis’s wings, uncomfortably warm and oppressive?

“You should be on your way, sweet prince, lest your father come looking,” Adagium teases, his smarmy grin returning to mar his otherwise pleasant features.

“Fine,” Noctis mutters, taking to the sky. “I’ll be back tonight, and you’re going to finish answering my question."

Adagium sweeps into a bow. "But _of course_ , Your Highness."

\---

Noctis leaves Ignis and Gladio at the door when he enters his father's throne room. It's a splendid space, built into the former home of an owl - a hollowed out oval in the great tree of Insomnia. Regis is standing in front of his spring flower tapestry, a brilliant weave of flowers and spider web that has been blessed with magic to help it last through autumn. It will only begin to wilt when winter comes and menaces them all with its cold chill.

Regis regards him fondly. “Son, come here. I have something to give you.”

“Yes, Father.” Noctis punctuates his words with a bow. He ascends the mushroom steps up to his father’s throne, a beautifully woven chair made of wood strips and decorated with blossoms.

Regis huffs and brushes a bit of hair out of Noctis’s eyes. “You resemble Aulea very much, did you know? She could almost have been your mother.”

Noctis shifts uncomfortably at the mention of Regis’s deceased queen. He knows his father had hoped to raise his child with her at his side, and that he was devastated when she passed before Noctis’s arrival. He couldn’t control the moment of his birth, but the guilt is still there, gnawing at him.

“She was your wife. That makes her my mother as far as I’m concerned,” he manages. It’s the right thing to say, because Regis smiles warmly and leads him away from the throne.

“I know we’ve gone over most of your coronation ceremony in great detail,” Regis says, “but there is one part we have not yet discussed.” He plucks an acorn from a shelf etched into the tree trunk. Noctis watches as Regis pops open the cap. Inside is a ring, gold and embedded with rubies, more beautiful than anything Noctis has ever seen. He gapes as his father presses it into his hands.

“This ring has been passed down since ancient days,” Regis says. “It is the ring I used to propose to your mother, and the ring my father used to propose to my mother, and so on.”

“Oh.” Noctis turns it over in his hand. The ring sparkles in the sunlight, brighter than the stars. “So, I… I’ll use this to propose to my spouse?”

“Yes,” his father says.

“And I can choose whoever I want, right?”

Regis chuckles. “Well, I would prefer it be someone you think would make a good consort, but yes. I will approve of anyone who makes you happy.”

“Thank you, Dad,” Noctis says. He does his best not to sound too nervous. “I’ll choose well, I promise.”

\---

He spends the rest of the day mentally going over his options.

At first, he thinks about Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto. Ignis would make a good consort, definitely, but Noctis isn’t sure he wants to marry the guy. Gladio would probably reject a proposal in favor of continuing his duties as the prince’s (soon to be king’s) guard. And Prompto… Prompto would say yes if he thought it was what Noctis wanted, but Noctis knows he’s sweet on that blonde fairy who’s obsessed with human machines. He doesn’t want to take away Prompto’s chance at happiness just because he didn’t bother selecting a spouse in advance.

Luna might be an option - caring, gentle Luna, who’s always tended to his wounds since they were children, but alas, she’s infatuated with the black haired elf that hangs around the lakes in the north. Ravus would probably kill him, anyway, if he asked for Luna’s hand.

Noctis sighs and sinks into his plush bed, made fresh with soft moss and leaf bits. Things would be so much easier if he had someone he loved already. But Noctis has always been sort of isolated, a prince raised in cotton wool, protected from all things even when it was to his detriment, and on top of that he’s unusually shy for a scion of Lucis. There was never a chance of him falling in love, or getting someone to fall in love with him. He’d thought there was, years ago. He’d thought some day he’d be less lonely and have someone to call his own - but he was wrong.

After all, what does he have to offer a potential lover? His title, perhaps. A throne. His mother’s ring. And he’s been told he’s beautiful, but aren’t all fairies? He isn’t particularly witty, he’s bad at flirting, and he never wakes up before midday. Ignis scolds him near constantly for his inability to care for himself or his living space.

Noctis groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. He’s been trying to avoid the issue of his engagement for ages now, having figured he’d deal with it when the time came. Now that it's looming right in front of him, though, he finds he just can’t face it.

As the moon begins to rise into the air, Noctis remembers that Adagium will already be out and about. This is the first night in just over a moon that he hasn’t been waiting at the Accursed’s cave for him to emerge; he curses himself when he realizes the fairy could’ve easily run off, trekking far into the woods to avoid answering Noctis’s question.

He zips out of his room without another thought.

\---

It takes him until near the end of the night to track Adagium down. He’s kneeling at the side of a lake, cupping his hands into the water and drinking it up in long sips. Noctis is utterly exhausted by the time he flits up to him, the ring deceptively heavy in his knapsack. Adagium gives him an amused smile as he collapses on his shoulder.

“Oh, dear, did you fly after me all night?” he coos, plucking Noct up and letting him lay flat on his palm. “I’m ever so sorry for running off without you. I thought you’d tired of me.”

“Yeah, right,” Noctis murmurs. He slips his arms behind his head and throws one leg over the other. Maybe he should be scared, but he isn’t. Yes, Adagium is powerful, but Noctis is pretty sure if he wanted to hurt him he’d be dead by now. “Come on. You know what I’m here for.”

“Oh, I _do_ ,” Adagium purrs. “Do you?”

“Shut up,” Noctis says, “and answer my question. How did you change?”

“I’m afraid those orders are contradictory, Your Highness.” Adagium steps down into the lake, wading out until the water is lapping at his hips. Noctis watches in fascination at the way his muscles relax with obvious contentment as the water washes over them. Noctis has never waded into open water before because of his delicate wings; he wonders how it feels. “Should I shut up, or answer you?”

“Answer me, asshole,” Noctis says, still distracted by the water.

“Very well. Allow me to tell you a story.” Adagium lowers his hand until it’s resting on the lake's surface. Noctis crawls to the edge and dips his hand in. It feels different to washing his skin with a damp washcloth - the water parts for him easily, kissing his skin as he scoops it up and lets it trickle through the cracks in his fingers. The contrast between Adagium’s heat and the water’s chill is shocking.

Noctis blinks, realizing Adagium has stopped speaking. He looks up in annoyance, only to be met by an impassive smile.

“I was a fairy once,” Adagium continues, “but no longer. I was born of love, yes, but found by a king.”

Noctis’s eyes widen. “So not all princes are born of regality?”

“Indeed. My younger brother was, however - and so desperate he was to rule! But the people preferred me, you see.”

Noctis slides off his leaf-sewn boots and slips his feet into the lake. “But you weren’t meant to be king.”

“Says who? The wind? You’re so naive, little prince. The wind plans nothing. True, I did not want to rule, but my brother was… unsuitable at best.” Adagium waves his free hand dismissively. “Fearing that I might take his crown from him, he invoked the help of humans to curse me and make me unfit for the throne.”

Noctis frowns. "But what did they _do_ to you? Why are you…"

"Like this?" Adagium's wings flutter out behind him. Noctis can almost see them, now. Water has a tendency to make things clearer, to wash away illusions. "I just _told_ you, dear Noctis. Human magic and fairy magic are quite incompatible. I believe my dear brother merely wanted to disfigure me, to make me ugly so I would lose the people's trust, but instead I became this. Half fawn, half fairy. A cursed creature. Ugly _and_ bound to the earth and darkness."

Noctis yanks his boots back on and flies up to hover in front of Adagium's face. The man gives him a pleasant smile, but his eyes are devoid of emotion. "Who did this to you? You’re a prince. The crime for harming royalty is death."

"My brother is already long dead, Your Highness," Adagium says lightly. "I am older than you could possibly imagine."

Noctis narrows his eyes. "I'll have his name struck from our Hall of Kings and Queens, then. He'll be forgotten by time, the memory of him blown away by the wind."

Adagium smirks. "His name was Somnus."

"The Founder King?" Noctis's mouth drops open. "That can't be right. He founded our kingdom, he _created_ springtime -"

"Oh dear," Adagium says, staring up at the sky. Noctis startles, realizing that the sun has begun rising in earnest, painting pink and orange streaks in the sky. "I'm afraid we'll have to finish this talk another time, my dear Noctis." Adagium slides down all the way into the lake, while Noctis sputters and grabs at his hair, trying to hold him back.

As Adagium submerges himself completely, preparing to hide from the sunlight on the lakebed, his wings balloon up towards the surface. The water washes away the magic completely, letting Noctis see them for the first time. They’re beautiful - massive and white, decorated with lines of gold, glittering under the creeping light of the sun. They aren't torn or damaged, just slightly shriveled. Noctis can't imagine why Adagium would want to hide them. They're the most gorgeous wings he's ever seen.

He flies back to Lucis, exhausted and confused. He collapses into bed and resigns himself to getting yelled at by Ignis later.

\---

Wedding bells chime. Noctis doesn’t dare look up at his betrothed, lest his giddiness get the best of him and he rush the ceremony. His mother's ring rests heavy in his hand. Noctis breathes deeply as he takes his love's hand, sliding the gold ring onto it. Then he raises his head to kiss them and seal their fates, binding them together for the rest of eternity. The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is gold: the glint of his mother's ring, the majesty of Adagium's wings, his eyes as they glitter even in the light of day -

Noctis wakes up in a cold sweat.

"What the fuck," he murmurs, and goes back to sleep.

\---

He sees Adagium the next night. He’d already torn through all the useful books in the palace library ages ago, so the cursed fairy is his only hope for getting more answers. His wings flutter in the swiftly gathering cold air. Autumn has come and gone in the blink of an eye, and he knows it won’t be long before he can’t brave going out at night anymore.

After all, if a fairy’s wings freeze, they’ll shatter. It’s not something he can risk.

(Why does he feel like he wants to?)

Adagium is cleaner, this time. His night spent in the lake must have washed most of the dirt away. He looks more handsome like this, Noctis thinks. Adagium smirks at him in greeting. His eyes, however, betray a tiredness Noctis hasn’t seen there before.

“Hey,” Noctis says, resting on Adagium’s shoulder. “I want to ask you something else.”

“Of course you do,” Adagium sighs, turning his head away.

“How can I break your curse?”

Adagium stares at him a long time. They sit there all night, Noctis shivering, Adagium thinking, until the sun begins to rise. As the pink light of dawn washes over the woods and Adagium’s skin starts to burn, he answers.

“I must remember what it is like to love,” he says, and melts into the shadow.

Noctis’s skin is covered in gooseflesh. His hands are shaking. He rubs at his arms, trying to figure out if he feels too hot or too cold. It is in this moment that he realizes what he is. His fascination for the Accursed has morphed into something more dangerous, and now nothing can undo it. It sings in his blood, makes his bones ache and cry out for someone, anyone, to reach inside him and soothe the pain. It’s a feeling that will never fade.

Noctis shudders as he flies home. It’s late enough into the dawn that Ignis and Gladio have noticed he’s missing, and they greet him at the gate, relieved and angry. He ignores their worried hovering and offers of a warm blanket, and flies all the way to his father’s throne room.

Regis greets him impassively. “Son.”

“Dad,” Noctis says. “What am I?”

Regis sighs, draws Noctis close, and places a kiss on his brow. “Why ask what you already know?”

Noctis shivers. “I’m self-sacrifice.”

Regis still holds him, and says nothing.

\---

He sets out that night with only a bag holding his mother’s ring and the clothes on his back. Ignis tries to stop him, but Noctis pushes on. By the King’s decree, no one follows him. He flies deep into the forest, ignoring the chattering of his teeth as the cold sinks into his feather-light bones, and searches for the Accursed. He doesn’t find Adagium at any of his usual haunts, but he keeps looking, ducking into logs and peering over the tops of hills. He flies up into the tree line to search from above, but doesn’t catch any glimpse of beautiful white wings or wine red hair. Eventually he collapses on an oak leaf, trembling, trying to rub warmth back into his arms.

The last thing he sees is a big, black figure looming over him, before a voice says “oh, _Noct_ ,” and warm skin covers his own.

\---

Noctis wakes up in Adagium’s hands. He’s folded them one over the other, trapping Noctis like a butterfly, heat radiating from all around him. Noctis arches up so that his wings brush against Adagium’s palm, and the man shifts. Noctis wonders if it tickles. He lies flat against his other palm and presses kisses against the pale blue veins stretching under the skin.

Adagium’s hands shift, and a small hole is made so that he can peek inside to look at Noctis. “What are you doing,” he murmurs quietly.

Adagium opens his hands more. Noctis trembles as the cold air swoops back in, eager to freeze him, to hurt him, but before Adagium can close his hands again he flies up to his face and presses a kiss to his lower lip.

Adagium snorts, an amused sound, but Noctis keeps trying. He flies up to Adagium’s nose and kisses the tip, then his eyelids, then his cheeks. All the while Adagium watches him idly, a blank smile on his face. By the time he’s gotten halfway across Adagium’s jaw his wings are shriveled, and Adagium plucks him from the air and regards him like he’s the stupidest fairy in the world.

In the time it takes him to blink, Noctis finds himself nestled into Adagium’s collarbone. He presses little kisses there, too, wondering if Adagium can even feel them. It doesn’t matter, he decides, as Adagium’s breath begins to shudder. Noctis was made for this, made to sacrifice himself, and he’ll do it gladly.

“Noct,” Adagium warns, but Noctis is having none of it. He spreads his wings, flutters them, an obvious courting display. Adagium’s eyebrow quirks up, but he says nothing.

Noctis glares up at him defiantly. “You were wrong.”

Adagium huffs. “Excuse me, little prince?”

“The wind plans _everything_.” Noctis flutters his wings again, and takes note of how Adagium’s eyes are drawn to them. “It sent me to you. I can help you.”

“Oh? And how, exactly, is that so?”

“You can learn to love again by loving _me_.”

Adagium sits back as Noctis bites his collarbone, just to hammer in the message. “What a dear, stupid boy you are,” he laments, but he keeps Noctis warm throughout the night.

\---

They face the winter together. Noctis spends the days in Adagium’s hands and the nights curled up on his chest, his stomach, or his side. Some nights he gets cheeky and rests on his thighs, letting the coarse fur of his legs tickle his nose. Adagium slowly warms to him, taking more of an interest in keeping him warm, finding him food, and as the days and nights pass they talk of things. Adagium tells him of ancient spring days, of old winter festivals, of a time when the stars hung low enough into the sky to touch.

Noctis sighs at the image, his breath visible in front of his face. “I wish I could’ve seen it.”

“I’ll steal a star for you one day, Highness,” Adagium says, joking and dead serious at the same time.

Noctis doesn’t think Adagium notices, but as the season passes, he begins to change. He grows slightly shorter, his hair tangles less during sleep, and his wings occasionally flutter behind him. Adagium drops his spell sometime around the solstice, and Noctis spends hours looking at his wings. Sometimes he dares to touch them, feeling their silkiness for himself, before Adagium swats him away. They’re even more magnificent now than they were before, and with their gold accents Noctis knows they’ll match the ring perfectly.

He hasn’t brought up the wedding yet, since he knows his beloved is still in denial about all of this. Let him believe that come spring, he’ll still be cursed. When his current body melts away with the snow, Noctis will be there to comfort him.

Now that he knows what he is, it’s getting harder to reign in the feelings. He wants so badly to give his whole life for Adagium. As spring comes, creeping in as winter wallows in its death throes, he imagines a life at the Accursed’s side. He imagines devoting himself to keeping back the ichor in his veins, fighting off the human magic that wants so desperately to have him back, and can’t think of any other way he’d rather spend his life.

As long as Adagium remembers what it’s like to love, he’ll be cured. For that purpose, Noctis will ensure he never leaves his side. He’ll be there for Adagium to love for the rest of their lives.

And when his life comes to its natural end and Adagium, in his immortality, prepares to face eternity alone, Noctis will draw a blade and kill them both.

\---

Spring comes. It sweeps over Lucis in just one night, it seems, and when Noctis wakes to pleasantly warm air and the smell of flowers blooming, he finds Adagium, tiny and distinctly fairy-shaped, curled up in a bed of moss next to him.

Noctis sighs and stretches out. The bed is huge, having been made for Adagium’s larger, monstrous form. When he sits up, he can scarcely see the end of it. Outside their cave, the sun awaits, ready to welcome them home.

Noctis’s soon-to-be-husband groans and rolls over onto his back, proudly showing off his now fur-less legs. Noctis coughs and blushes crimson, pulling off his shirt to drape it over Adagium’s lap. The feel of fabric against his legs rouses him, and Noctis smiles as he yawns and rubs the bleariness of sleep out of his eyes.

It takes him approximately five seconds to notice. Then - “what in the world?!”

Noctis kisses him before he can speak again. Their lips fit together perfectly this time, and Noctis draws it out, moving to sit over Adagium’s lap. When he draws back, Adagium is staring at him with something like wonder.

“How…” he says. “How did…?”

“I told you I’d help you,” Noctis says. He nuzzles into Adagium’s neck.

“You beautiful boy,” Adagium whispers. He pulls Noctis close, his hands moving to stroke Noctis’s wings. He lets out a content murmur and relaxes as Ardyn massages his back. “You perfect little _brat_. You scheming _minx._ ”

“Hm, yep, that’s me,” Noctis says sleepily. His eyes snap open when he shifts and feels the weight of his bag move against his back. “Oh, wait! The ring will fit you now.”

“The ring.” Adagium stretches out his wings and flutters them. They’re still big for his frame, but most of the withering is gone, and Noctis imagines after a few weeks of healing sessions he’ll be able to fly with them again. For the moment, Noctis matches the courting display with one of his own and grins.

“Yep, the ring,” he says. “You know, the one I’m going to marry you with.”

“Marriage.” Adagium laughs. “My dear, I’m afraid you have me at a loss.”

“Why? I think it sounds good. Noctis and Adagium Lucis Caelum…”

“Ardyn,” he breathes, and for a horrible moment Noctis thinks he’s saying the name of a past lover, before he draws Noctis closer and squeezes him. “Say it. My _name_.”

“Ardyn,” Noctis says. “My Ardyn.”

When they return to Lucis, Noctis will have a lot to do. First he’ll have to drop Ardyn off at Luna’s, so she can begin the process of healing his wings. Then he’ll go apologize to Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto for running off without telling them anything. After that, he’ll have to go see his father and the council, and tell them that he’s selected a husband. He’ll likely have to fight the council on this - he doesn’t think the Accused was anyone’s first choice for the next King Consort. His father will be behind him, though, and Noctis suspects his friends won’t hold out long.

For now, though, he’s content to stay in Ardyn’s arms and press little kisses against his skin, while the world continues to turn without them.

\---

Many moons later, Ardyn wraps an arm around Noctis’s waist and asks, “do you truly love me?”

Noctis shrugs. “I’m not sure. I want to give up everything for you, but I don’t know if that’s the same thing as love.”

“Love is the most terrible feeling in the world,” Ardyn says, drawing Noctis into a slow dance. “It’s not something that can be explained. It’s simultaneously selfish and selfless; it has more power to destroy than anything else in the world. In other words,” he presses a kiss to Noctis’s forehead, “it makes people terribly stupid.”

“Stupid enough to risk freezing their wings off by flying into the woods aimlessly in the middle of winter?” Noctis asks cheekily.

Ardyn laughs. “Quite.”

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is exactly the same as all my other ardynoct stuff but like... what can i say... i like the Dynamic  
> also this is my last fic of the year/decade??? damn. happy new year to anyone reading this!


End file.
